Poetry by Guadalupe Palos
It’s 3:42 AM when I finally get to sit down,
Does the rain reach your roof too?
Our used-to-be shared roof watches me
pretend you are alive sometime, somewhere
else. Why won’t God let me know the you before
I was born? I saw your toddler smile weeks
after your passing for the first time, your
self showing in sepia tones. I think
heaven is a space where we can see each
other in all years. I could isolate all that is
your continuation inside of me and give it
back to you as a gift, where my toddler smile
and your toddler smile can be under one
roof again.
G.L. Palos is a poet who has lived in desert cities for over half of her life. She has a Bachelor’s in Religious Studies and has since entered and exited various service-based fields. Love, consciousness, nature, her current nonfiction read, and beauty inspire the majority of her writing.
